Cirrus@Austlit

'For Arvid, an absolute desperation defined every
creature of this earth, and meanings they assigned to
their existence were evasive at best. Yet people lived
on, making use of their only treasure and punishment:
memory. He knew that existence without the context of
memory would be an absolute oblivion; as lonely and
weightless as the falling autumn leaves. Dry veined, and
crinkled bodied, the perfect vessel of death and freedom.
Sometimes he would turn a page from a book and
read a random sentence like, ‘Laughter is the strongest
self-defense mechanism’ or ‘I needed some time
to collect my thoughts.’ He would contemplate these for a
while. He would quietly enjoy their contextless existence.' 

(Introduction)